


Who Was Gonna Tell Me?

by sincerelyjaime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Christmas Fluff, Crushes, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Bokuto Koutarou, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelyjaime/pseuds/sincerelyjaime
Summary: All it takes is one look at Akaashi, lit up by all of the twinkling lights around them and his rosy cheeks, for Bokuto to realize that he was in trouble. He would have known before now if he had been harboring some secret crush on his best friend, right?The more he tries to run away from it though, the more impossible that feat seems to become. So, Bokuto Koutarou does what he does best--runs headfirst into it without looking back.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	Who Was Gonna Tell Me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SimpleSalsa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleSalsa/gifts).



> A couple weeks ago, I had a dream of Bokuto in bed staring up at his ceiling as he had a crisis over the fact that he was in love with Akaashi. A few days later, I started this little thing and...here we are lol.
> 
> This is really just a whole bunch of fluff fjkdsafjs I hope you guys like it <3
> 
> A huge shoutout to [Frankie](https://https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_dontworry) for listening to me yammer about this and hyping me up always <3

Bokuto takes a deep breath as he and Akaashi exit the small sweets shop, lungs filling with the icy air. The sky has gotten considerably darker than when they set out this afternoon, but the streets around them are illuminated with fairy lights. Bokuto can even hear the off-pitch voices of carolers making their rounds a little ways down the road. He pats his pocket, trying to remember if he still has some cash in his wallet to hand out. "D'ya think I could get a couple of the guys around to go singing, Kaashi?" 

Bokuto hums, bopping his head as they stroll back towards the station.

"Mmm," Akaashi hums distractedly as he adjusts the soft hat on his hat, the fluffy ball on top swaying slightly in the wind. "You know Kuroo is always down for your plans, at the very least." He matches his steps with Bokuto's, the other man falling in line with him easily. "Thanks for coming out with me, Bokuto-san."

Earlier in the week, Akaashi had called him, asking if he wanted to accompany him while he finished his Christmas shopping. He was hesitant when he asked, as if Bokuto might say no, but Bokuto couldn’t think of anything that sounded better than being with Akaashi at any time ever.

“I can carry some of those, Bokuto.” Akaashi’s hand settles carefully on Bokuto’s shoulder, his own hands empty except for the small gift bag full of assorted chocolates and American candies he purchased for his office gift. “You’re making me look bad.”

Bokuto laughs, the sound echoing around them and causing people to stare, but his eyes are solely focused on Akaashi. “Impossible. Besides, I'm home for the break. Don't wanna let myself go or anything." 

Emphasizing his point, Bokuto pulls ahead, jogging backwards so that he can face Akaashi. "I've got this." His foot catches on a patch of ice, body falling out from under him, but he doesn't meet the ground. 

Bokuto is being held up by a hand wrapped around his bicep, the bags crunching as they knock together. The playful smirk on Akaashi's face sends something like lightning flashing underneath his skin, lighting him up from the inside out.

Or maybe it's just the way that the Christmas lights strung around them are casting a twinkle in his eyes, a warm glow across his rosy cheeks.

"And I've got _you_ , as usual. You need to be more careful." The scolding words sound way too warm to be anything but fond.

After a moment of locked gazes, Bokuto shakes his head, trying to dislodge the funny feeling bouncing around the inside of his chest. He laughs, waving off Akaashi’s concerns and pulling him towards the train station. 

**********

The funny feeling never fully disappears though, and by the time they are exiting the train, about to go their separate ways, Bokuto still feels a frantic swirling in his gut and crackling under his skin whenever his arm brushes Akaashi’s. 

They are outside now, and the man in question is staring up at the sky, watching as snowflakes drift down from the clouds.That’s when Bokuto notices the way that the snow is collecting on the soft fabric of Akaashi’s hat and his scarf, a light dusting of white beginning to cover them. 

Bokuto can see the lines of Akaashi’s smile from his profile, the corners of his mouth turning up with joy. He can see the delicate curve of his nose, the tip turning a bright red from the cold. Not for the first time, he can’t help but admire how beautiful his best friend is. And it’s _definitely_ _not_ the first time. But it _is_ the first time where he’s so badly wanted to turn his face and slot their lips together to see what it might feel like.

Without thinking, Bokuto’s hand races out towards Akaashi’s face, catching his chin between thumb and index finger. Akaashi is staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent question. “Bokuto-san?” he says eventually, voice confused.

“You’ve got a, uh…” Bokuto swipes his thumb across the Akaashi’s cheekbone, jostling the glasses perched atop his nose, and wiping away a few stray snowflakes, “snow.”

“Oh,” Akaashi whispers, breath puffing up in a cloud between them.

A car speeds past them, the heavy bass of their music smashing into the fragile atmosphere that had built up between them letting the pieces fall to the ground around them. 

Akaashi takes his phone out of his coat pocket, cursing silently at whatever he sees on screen. “Sorry, Bokuto. It’s work...I gotta take care of this before I leave for my parents’ tomorrow.” He grimaces. “We’ll have to meet up again before you leave.” There was a note of hesitation in his voice. Always hesitation. “Well, you’re probably busy, so--”

“There’s no use trying to get out of it, Kaashi.” He waved a finger in Akaashi’s face, grinning widely. “As soon as you’re back, we’re hanging out. _And_ you’re gonna set for me.” Pumping his fist in the air with an excited shout, Bokuto turns to the left and starts walking away. 

“Bokuto!” Akaashi calls out to him, exasperated, but the smile in his voice was evident. When Bokuto turns around, Akaashi is standing there, shaking his head and holding his arms out. “I need my bags.”

Glancing down at himself, Bokuto sees that he is still toting everything around, totally oblivious to the multitude of bags looped around his limbs. “Oh!” He hands them over, offering a sheepish smile. “Guess you do, huh?”

The tinkling sound of Akaashi’s responding laughter follows him the entire way home.

It isn’t until later, sprawled across the couch in his sister’s living room with his eyes glued to two people fumbling through a heartwarming confession on screen that he realizes _just_ what that funny feeling from earlier was.

_Shit_.

**********

“What do you _mean_ you thought it was obvious?” Bokuto pulls one of his pillows out from behind him and smothers his face with it, groaning into the soft fabric that smells faintly of his shampoo.

“ _You’ve always been attached at the hip. And you literally never shut up about him, Bokuto._ Ever.”

On the other end of the line, Bokuto hears Kuroo tapping away at something on his computer, and he’d almost feel bad about interrupting him at work if he wasn’t in the middle of a crisis about the fact that he is apparently _in love with his best friend._ “ _So_? What’s that have to do with anything? You and Kenma were the exact same.”

“ _I’m not going to point out the obvious,_ ” Kuroo drawls. The phone is silent for a few seconds. The clicking stops. “ _You know what, actually I am_ . I was in love with Kenma back then. _We are_ married _._ ”

Bokuto throws the pillow off of his face, sending it careening across the room until it hits the wall with a soft thump. “What am I supposed to do _now_ ?” The events from a few nights ago have been running through his mind on loop; he can't stop thinking about how _great_ Akaashi looked in the glow of the lights, all wrapped up in fuzzy layers as snow fell around them (but Akaashi always looks good? So what?). 

Going even further back in time, he thought of the way his body lit up like a flashfire when their legs would knock together under the table at team dinners, or on the train rides they frequently took together, or when Akaashi nodded off on his shoulder after long days, suddenly made more sense. What Bokuto always assumed was just a _normal_ thing suddenly seemed as if there was a big arrow pointing to a sign with neon lights that read _YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND. WELCOME TO HELL._

“ _Have you considered telling him that you want to smash your faces together? Maybe more than once? Maybe forever?_ ”

“Have you considered not being an ass?” Bokuto whines. “What? Did Kenma make fun of you too many times on his stream and now you’re taking it out on me? Not all of us are so lucky to come out of the womb knowing that we are in love with our best friend. Cut me some slack.”

Kuroo laughs on the other end and it sounds like a braying horse. 

“What if I just pretend like I didn’t have this huge epiphany?” He sits up on the edge of his bed, bending at the waist so he’s hunched over his knees. Fingers comb through his hair agitatedly as a spike of anxiety strikes him, kicking his heart into overdrive. “Akaashi never has to know that I’ve _apparently_ had feelings for him this entire time.” _And I never have to know what his face of pity looks like when he apologizes, getting that little furrow between his eyebrows that means he’s uncomfortable, and tells me he just doesn’t feel the same._

“ _You guys are gonna hang out once he’s back in town, right? Take him to dinner before you leave and tell him then. Or…_ ” Kuroo drags the last word out, teasing. Bokuto kind of wants to smack him.

“I’m not driving out there to see him.”

_“I was going to say you could just call him, but please, your idea is so much better. Do it.”_

“I already said I’m not going to do that, man. That would be crazy.” 

Bokuto hears someone mumble something in the background. Kenma, probably. _“Kenma says to_ stop being a baby and just tell him. No balls _.”_

“You guys have been real helpful. I’m gonna go drown my sorrows in barbeque and think about why I’ve been cursed with such a pretty best friend. And why my other best friends are such _jerks_.”

Bokuto sags back against his mattress, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. His phone chimes and he checks it hesitantly. There are a few notifications waiting for him, some of which must have came through while he was on the phone with Kuroo. He thumbs at the newest one, an incoming text from Kuroo.

**Kuroo: hey man it’s gonna be okay. You’ve got this ୧☉□☉୨ go get your man!**

As he is typing out a reply, Akaashi’s name pops up at the top of his screen.

**AKAAAASHIII (4 snaps)**

Abandoning his half-written text, Bokuto opens up snapchat immediately, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips effortlessly as he watches each image cycle through.

Akaashi is at his parents’ house now, opting to stay there over the holiday instead of holing up in his apartment with his laptop and pile of work. He didn’t say as much, but Bokuto has a feeling that it might be due to the pestering of his coworkers begging him to relax for once. (Bokuto has always had to remind him of that too, and he’s glad that even though he’s gone for a big portion of the year that there is someone here still looking out for him.) 

Relaxation looks incredible on him; each of the photos that he sends feature Akaashi with a soft look on his face, face calm, absent of any furrowed brows or frowns. Akaashi’s _mom_ sent him a video earlier. In it, Akaashi was on his stomach in the center of the living room while two small puppies hopped on him, over him, nipping at the wiggling fingers he presented to their faces. 

They were light in color and had ears that flopped around with each pounce they made. The thing that really did Bokuto in was when they both gave up, choosing instead to lay out along Akaashi’s side, big yawns cracking their mouths, and Akaashi’s hands stroked along their fur gently, scratching behind their ears while he talked with his dad about a book they were both reading.

It had sent Bokuto spiralling again, prompting the phone call with Kuroo.

And now! Now he is watching as Akaashi steps through piles of snow towards a barn, the chunky knit sweater oversized and hanging off of his slender frame, a pair of overalls tucked into boots that went up to his calf. His face is half-turned towards the camera, his dark hair sticking out under the edge of his hat and curling around his ears. At his feet, a small goat traipses beside him, hopping along and bleating at the piles of snow they pass.

The last two were pictures--one of all of the sheep his family had, probably six or seven, standing huddled together, their dark faces contrasting with the off-white of their wool. The last one is a selfie, and in it, Akaashi is sitting on the ground, one arm slung around the neck of one of the fluffier sheep; it’s chewing at his hat, the thing nearly pulled off of his head, and Akaashi’s face is scrunched up in laughter. _Mom says hi_ _and that she misses you_ , the caption reads.

Bokuto groans, holding up his phone to his face to snap a picture, but he looks awful--his hair is dishevelled from how he’s been playing with it and the lighting is causing weird shadows on his face. He stomps around his room looking for a better place to take it, but no matter where he goes there is something _wrong_ with the picture and he can’t send an ugly picture to Akaashi, especially not when he’s spent all day today _sending Bokuto effortlessly gorgeous photos._

He’s sitting on top of his desk, the small lamp positioned partially in front of him while everything else on the desk had been shoved to the side so he could fit, when his sister’s head peaks in the door. “Jesus, Ko. Why are you always so _loud_? What are you even doing in here?” She has a sucker in her hand that she pops in her mouth. 

“I’m trying to take a picture, Kaori. Obviously.” Bokuto holds his phone up again, but nothing he does is making a difference. “Who was going to tell me that Akaashi is stupidly pretty like... _no matter what_?” 

“Akaashi?” Kaori pulls the sucker out of her mouth with a pop, lips twisting into a smirk. She steps into the room, her long legs carrying her across the space with just a few strides until she is able to pinch at Bokuto’s cheeks. When she speaks again, her voice is teasing and sing-songy and Bokuto kind of wants to smack her away. But he is a nice brother, so he doesn’t. “I should have known it was about _him_.” 

Bokuto stretches one of his legs out, pushing Kaori away from him with his foot. “Don’t be a jerk. What does that even _mean_?” He holds out his phone, shouting over her laughter, “Can you just help me?” 

“There is no helping you, Ko. Trust me, we’ve tried.” 

“Ha ha.”

Kaori takes the phone, despite her teasing. She positions Bokuto, getting the perfect lighting, teasing him the whole time, but Bokuto accepts it as the price of a good picture to (hopefully) wow Akaashi. Because that _mattered_ now, apparently. Bokuto’s stomach flipped and he groaned again, knocking his head against the wall.

“Let me see that before you send it.” He leaps up from the desk, lunging for the phone, but Kaori is dancing around him with a laugh.

“Hang on. I’m not done yet!” The words are mumbled around the sucker in her mouth.

“Don’t be a jerk!” 

The two of them stand on each side of Bokuto’s bed; Bokuto is about to leap at her again to wrestle the phone from her if he needs to when she smiles, voice sickly sweet. “Here!” The phone is shoved in his face and he’s skeptical. “You’re welcome.”

“Where’s the picture?” Bokuto whines. He hates the smirk on his sister’s face. He doesn’t _trust it_. 

Kaori pats him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Ko. I went ahead and sent it. Don’t be a baby. Trust me, it was a _great_ picture. I just know Akaashi-san will love it.” 

Before Bokuto can do anything, she is out of the door, already calling down to their mom, asking about what was for dinner and if she needed any help. He sits down on his bed; Akaashi hasn’t opened his snap yet, and he just hopes that his sister actually took a decent picture. 

Swiping to his memories, the first thing he notices is that something is wrong; because right where a picture of himself, expertly posed with the perfect lighting and his _dazzling good smile_ should be...is a picture of Kaori. _Miss you Akaashi! Ditch my brother and hang out with me and Katsumi instead ;)_

Bokuto is going to kill her.

The smell of cooking meat hits his nose and Bokuto’s stomach growls, mouth watering. He puts his phone down face down on his bedside table and plugs it in before moping down the stairs. If his family notices anything about his slumped shoulders and dark face, they don’t say anything. Kaori does offer him half of her steak though, and Bokuto takes that as a peace offering. 

The whole family watches a game show on TV together after their stomachs are full of hearty meat and vegetables; Bokuto is squished between Kaori and Katsumi on the loveseat--he had sat down first, but apparently that didn’t mean anything because his two sisters dropped down on either side of him anyway and stretched their legs across his lap.

He was trying not to think about his phone and whether or not Akaashi had replied yet. It wasn’t like it was even _him_ in the last picture. And he feels stupid, honestly, getting so worked up over a few pictures of his best friend. His really, gorgeous, _adorable_ best friend.

Bokuto reaches out to the plate sitting on the table in front of them and grabs another kabob, stuffing a big chunk of steak into his mouth to distract himself. As if she can tell he is freaking out over something, Katsumi pats his shoulder and pulls up a video of a volleyball match (one of his more recent ones, he notes belatedly); she points out number 15 and asks if Bokuto can set her up with him, laughing when he has to tell her that Sakusa is decidedly _not_ into that kind of thing, _especially_ not another Bokuto. 

**********

There _is_ a picture waiting for Bokuto when he goes back to his room. It’s perfect, because of course it is, and Bokuto takes a screenshot of a sleepy Akaashi with a blanket pulled up to his chin and a golden retriever puppy laying out along the top of his head before he can stop himself.

He sets it as his lock screen and can’t regret it when looking at it every time he opens his phone puts a big smile on his face.

As they send messages back and forth, cracking jokes and sharing stories of their days, Kuroo’s words from earlier cross his mind and tease at his brain. He pulls a pillow from beside him and covers his head with it.

_I am_ not _going all the way to Akaashi’s parents’ house to tell him that I have feelings for him. I’m_ not _._

**********

The bright red numbers on his clock glare at him.

3:47 A.M.

_Well, shit,_ Bokuto thinks as he throws the blanket off of his body and bolts out of bed, grabbing a sweater from a pile of clothes beside him and tugging it over his head, _I’m going to go see Akaashi._

He tries walking through the hall quietly so he doesn’t wake anyone up, but that plan goes out the window when Katsumi rounds the corner with her arms full of snacks. There is a bright green goop on her face, nearly glowing in the dark. When Bokuto shouts in surprise, she slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise.

“What are you doing?” Katsumi whispers, tone accusatory. 

She doesn’t move her hand though, so Bokuto licks at it until she gets the point. “What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?” 

Katsumi levels Bokuto with a glare, but he doesn’t care, too busy poking at the goop on her face. “It’s called self-care.” She shifts the items she’s carrying to one arm, tilting her head to the side as she pulls at Bokuto’s cheeks. “Maybe if you did it every now and again, you wouldn’t have those ugly wrinkles forming, baby brother.”

“ _Wrinkles?”_ Bokuto starts patting his face desperately. “How am I supposed to go see Kaashi if I have _wrinkles?_ ” 

He stops his frantic movements when he feels a smack against the back of his head. When he turns around, Kaori is there, her own face covered in the same green goop that Katsumi’s is. “Shut up, will you? Your ugly face is the same as always. Akaashi-kun probably likes it just fine.”

“You think Akaashi likes my face?” He can’t help the smile that breaks across his face. “I like his face too. Especially when he gets all relaxed and smiley.” Bokuto pauses and thinks about all of the times that Akaashi has scolded him in the past, lips turned down at the corners and arms crossed. “His angry face is pretty too though--”

“Yes, yes. We know all about your giant crush on Akaashi-san, Koutarou. You don’t have to remind us.” Kaori flicks him in the nose, laughing at the look he sends her. “We’re busy though. Go do...whatever you were going to do before you nearly woke up the house, you heathen.”

Bokuto sputters, but his protests fall on deaf ears as his sisters leave him standing alone in the hallway.

**********

After an hour in the kitchen, Bokuto looks down at the bento he had put together; it wasn't pretty, the salmon sliced unevenly, onigiri that refused to form in the way that he knew they _should_. But the soup he had poured into small thermoses was hot and flavorful (Bokuto knew because he had poured himself a bowl first, just to check) and perfect for a cold morning.

He tries really hard not to worry about how it looks. _It's the thought that counts,_ he thinks.

_And what if Akaashi thinks it looks bad?_

Shaking himself out of it, Bokuto creeps back upstairs, no run-ins with his sisters holding him up this time. 

Bokuto rummages through his dresser looking for something nice to wear. It's a struggle to find anything nice between all of the sweats and athletic shorts, but eventually he pulls a pair of slim, dark slacks from the recesses of his middle drawer with a triumphant _aha!_

Once he decides that he looks as good as he can due to the fact that it’s close to 5 in the morning and he’s about to swing by his his best friend’s parents’ house unannounced to maybe confess his feelings to said best friend, Bokuto nods in the mirror; he throws himself a thumbs up, hoping that it might beat back the jittery feeling thrumming underneath his skin.

He walks down to the kitchen and grabs the food he prepared after placing it in a thermal bag to keep it warm. With a yawn, Bokuto pockets his phone and heads out into the freezing morning air.

**********

The station is surprisingly busy when Bokuto arrives. He hasn’t been able to make it out to the new place since the Akaashis have moved from the city, and it isn’t until he walks through the entrance that he realizes he doesn’t know exactly where he’s _going_ . There is an empty bench a few feet away, so sits down, hoping that Akaashi mentioned the address _somewhere_ in their chats.

To his luck, buried deep in their text thread (wow, do they talk _a lot_ ), is his saving grace: an address. From there, it’s easy to figure out the correct line, but Bokuto slumps in his seat and takes a second to try and relax. The early hour and the nerves are catching up to him and he is seriously considering just turning around and going back home so that he doesn’t embarrass himself.

Trains take off around him, the robotic voice over the speaker announcing arrivals and departures. Bokuto stays sitting. There are people bustling about, arms full of wrapped gifts with bows, bags dangling off wrists and elbows; it’s busy, but also quiet, some people taking a more lethargic approach to the morning. Droopy-eyed stares and to-go cups of coffee being sipped at (or guzzled down rapidly) as shoes scuff across the tiled floor towards their destination.

Bokuto thinks about going home. No one would be any wiser about this plan. He could act like he never did any of this. Things could go on as they have been. No one would need to know.

Then his phone chimes, screen lighting up for half a second as an email comes through about a sale going on at the smoothie place he likes to stop at sometimes. Akaashi’s face is there, and Bokuto thinks about what _he_ might be like, this chilly morning. And that’s all it takes for him to forget about abandoning his plane because the only thing he wants is to see Akaashi, sleep-rumpled or bright-eyed, grumpy and liable to snap or cheerful and ready to take on the day. 

He stands up and boards his train-- _Akaashi, here I come._

**********

By the time Bokuto arrives at the gate of the Akaashi residence, the air has warmed up _just slightly_ ; not only is he carrying the food he had made, but he now has a bundle of a beautifully wrapped bouquet of flowers tucked in the crook of his elbow.

( _You’re going to confess to Akaashi and don’t have flowers,_ Kuroo had said after Bokuto called him up when he got off of his train.

_I brought food._ Bokuto remembered the panic he felt. _Am I supposed to have flowers too?_ His head looked side to side frantically, as if flowers might appear out of thin air just because he needed them.

The indignation in Kuroo’s voice had been very much _not_ appreciated when he said, _Uh, yeah. If you wanna do romance the_ right _way, dude. Flowers are a must._ )

Out here, it’s peaceful. The snow is piled much higher, covering every inch of the ground in inches of fluffy white snow, totally unmuddied from the rush of cars and pedestrians like in the city. The sun is still low in the sky, but Bokuto can hear animals braying in their barns. Some of them are already out and their heads turn towards him curiously.

One goat in particular is doing its best to climb up over the fence, hooves propped against the top bar as it brays. Bokuto waves at it quickly, a big smile cracking his lips. He continues on towards the house, blaming the cold breeze that rushes past him for the sudden chilled feeling in his stomach.

The lights in the house are off, and as Bokuto climbs the steps up to the porch he berates himself for ambushing Akaashi like this. It’s stupid. He should have called or something. He takes a few steps closer to the door before aborting his movements and turning around backtracking. 

Over and over again.

_If I leave now, no one will ever know._

_But you’re_ already _here._

_I don’t need to tell him. It’s probably silly. Totally cliche to confess to your crush that you are in love with them on Christmas. Akaashi probably thinks that’s overdone._

“ _Bokuto-san?”_ It’s when his foot is about to make contact with the steps, mind made up to not go through with any of this plan and head back home, when Akaashi’s voice, sleepy and confused, reaches Bokuto’s ears. “What are you doing here?”

He turns around and nearly melts at the sight. Akaashi is standing there, lit up by the warm light of the room behind him. A huge sweater hangs off of his slender frame, the sleeves stretched out around the wrists, and the fuzzy lounge pants he’s wearing have penguins with candy canes all over them. His dark hair is messy, dark curls twisted in different directions, and Bokuto can’t decide if he wants to run away or drop everything and kiss Akaashi until they are both breathless.

Mouth refusing to form any words, Bokuto stutters and shoves the flowers in Akaashi’s face.

Akaashi nearly drops them but manages to catch them at the last second. He stares at Bokuto, confusion written all over his face. “What...are these for?”

In the distance, a rooster crows. 

Akaashi lifts the flowers to his nose and inhales softly. “I’m...confused, Bokuto. It’s so early.” His eyes trail down Bokuto’s form and back up, tilting his head to the left. Bokuto’s cheeks flare up, hot despite the cold morning around them. Akaashi’s eyes are questioning. 

And so, so _pretty_. 

“--why are you dressed up?”

Without his consent, Bokuto’s legs move forward until he’s standing toe to toe with Akaashi. He drops the bag of food to the ground and grabs Akaashi’s face in his hands, pulling it close to his own. Their breath puffs in little clouds between them. “I,” Bokuto starts, but finds he can’t form any words and grows frustrated with himself.

Akaashi is still staring at him, flowers clutched between them, and shivering slightly. “You see,” he tries again.

Throwing caution to the wind, Bokuto closes the distance between them and kisses Akaashi’s lips. The other man doesn’t move an inch. 

_Shit. Shit shit shit._ A ball forms in Bokuto’s stomach and he half wants to set himself on fire for not thinking any of this through. _This is so stupid._ I’m _stupid._

As he’s pulling away, an excuse already forming on his lips, Akaashi pulls him back in, flowers dropping to the wooden slats of the porch. This time, his lips move against Bokuto’s and it sends sparks of pleasure zipping from his head all the way down to his toes. The longer the kiss goes on, the more Bokuto feels like he is going to vibrate out of his skin.

When it becomes too much, he steps back and does a little hop, pumping one fist into the air. In front of him, Akaashi stares bewilderedly, cheeks pink and the smallest smile curving his lips upwards. 

“Kaashi,” Bokuto starts, “I really, really like you.” He grabs Akaashi gently by the shoulders, words rushing out of his mouth. “I really, really, _really_ like you.”

“Bokuto, what are you talking about?” Akaashi’s voice is hesitant, but his eyes are glinting in the low light, hopeful. “Come inside, please.” He pulls Bokuto through the door by the hands, shutting it behind them. 

A puppy comes running down the stairs, ears flopping with each uncoordinated step it takes. She stops in front of Bokuto and stares up at him, tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. Bokuto reaches down to pat her head and marvels at the soft fur underneath his palm. Her excitement ramps up the longer that he pets her--soon her tail is wagging and excited yips leave her mouth as she bounces in place.

Akaashi smiles at them, wrapping his fingers gently around Bokuto’s arm and pulling him towards the kitchen after taking his coat and hanging it up. “You’ll have to be quiet, Bokuto-san. Everyone else is still sleeping,” he chides good-naturedly. 

“Oh,” Bokuto breathes out, rubbing a hand behind his neck. He offers a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.”

They make it to the kitchen and Akaashi starts rummaging through the refrigerator, presumably in search of something for them to eat, when Bokuto remembers the food he had prepared before leaving. “I was just going to--”

Before Akaashi can finish that sentence, Bokuto turns back towards the entrance. It’s only once he’s outside that he realizes that he admitted his feelings for Akaashi, just like he set out here to do, but _Akaashi never said anything back_ . _Oh god._

He picks up the discarded bag. _This is fine_ . A goat can be heard bleating from one of the pens across the yard. _Akaashi didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t kick me out. No need to panic._

The walk back to the kitchen is torture, and when Bokuto makes it back, Akaashi meets his eyes with a questioning stare and a raised brow. His hair is less mussed now, as if he had combed his fingers through it, and he looks slightly more awake as he leans back against one of the counters and sips from a mug.

Raising the bag up in answer, Bokuto nods towards the small table set up in one corner of the room. He walks over to the table and begins removing the containers. As he’s doing this, Akaashi walks behind him, hooking his chin around Bokuto’s shoulder. The fruity scent of his shampoo hits Bokuto’s nose and he breathes in deeply. “What’s this?”

_This is fine. This is normal._

“I made us food.” When Bokuto opens the lids of the containers he notices, with great relief, that things are mostly unharmed despite the jostling. Akaashi steps back, sitting down at the table and nodding for Bokuto to do the same.

_Don’t say anything. Don’t make it_ awkward _._

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I could have made us something.” Akaashi smiles at him, digging in as soon as Bokuto sits down and they say their thanks. The food looks less than perfect, but it tastes way better than it looks and is still warm when they bite into it.

The puppy, Kurumi, he remembers Akaashi calling her, settles at Bokuto’s feet and stares up at him with her head resting on her paws, but Bokuto doesn’t pet her this time. He’s too focused on Akaashi across from him, happily nibbling on one of the onigiri, eyes closed. Words bubble up inside of him, but he bites them back. 

He really wants to kiss Akaashi again.

“You didn’t say anything,” Bokuto blurts. “Outside. How come?”

Face flushing at the words, the only thing Bokuto can do now is stare at the befuddled expression on Akaashi’s face. He really hadn’t meant to say that at all, but here he is, words hanging in the air between them as his heart pounds in his ears.

Akaashi leans forward, elbows on the table, face slipping into a softer expression; there is a quiet smile teasing his lips as he grabs Bokuto’s hands and cups them between his own. “Koutarou,” a fond laugh leaves his lips, “I’m so sorry--”

_Well, an apology after you put your heart out there is never a good thing._

“Hey, don’t wor--”

“--I just thought that you had to have _known_ already. That I’ve had feelings for you. For a,” another laugh spills from his mouth, and his eyes are shy, but Akaashi brings Bokuto’s hands up to his lips and presses a kiss there, “long, _long_ time.”

Bokuto blinks, jaw dropping in surprise. “What?”

“I _kissed_ _you back_.”

“Well, yeah--”

The sound of a shutter catches them by surprise, and when they both look towards the doorway, Akaashi’s mom is standing there, camera held up to her face. “It’s about _time_ , you two,” she teases. “This is going in my photo album with the caption _The day my boys finally got their butts in gear_.”

Bokuto throws his head back and laughs, standing up and walking over to Miyuki. He throws his arms around her in a hug, picking her up off of the ground and twirling her a little. When he sets her down, he starts rambling excitedly. “I _promise_ I’m gonna be so good to Keiji. I’ll make sure to--”

A warm hand on his cheek silences him; Miyuki has a warm look on her face when she says, “Yes, Bokuto-san. I have no worries about that. You’ve always been there for our boy, you know.”

Nodding, Bokuto is filled with a warm feeling, pride flooding his chest. 

A chair scrapes quietly against the floor and then Akaashi is at his side, arm looping around one of his arms. “Hey, I wanna show you something,” he says quietly as he starts pulling Bokuto away.

Miyuki offers a teasing _behave, you two_ , as they leave the room. They don their winter attire and trek through the piles of white on the ground; fluffy snowflakes fall around them, and Bokuto marvels at the beauty of it. 

They stop in front of a sliding barn door that Akaashi struggles with for a second before it slides free. Stepping inside, Bokuto’s eyes fall on several fluffy sheep, the same ones from the video. They bleat at him, clearly steering clear of his form while eyeing him curiously. 

All Bokuto can do is stare. For some reason, he can’t get enough of this.

Akaashi crouches down, holding his hand out, palm up, towards a few of the braver ones. In the center of his palm is a small square that looks a lot like a dessert bar, and that’s when Bokuto notices the small container near Akaashi’s feet. Inside are more of them, and just as he’s reaching in to grab one for himself, Akaashi’s voice stops him.

“There’s nothing in there that will hurt you, but I _promise_ , you probably don’t wanna eat one.” 

Bokuto brings his hand back to his side slowly, stuffing it into his pocket. He copies Akaashi’s stance, watching the sheep that has started to creep towards them hesitantly. The fluffy ears on top of its head twitch with each step it takes. As soon as the sheep can reach the treat, it takes it eagerly, chewing it down until there is nothing left, nose sliding down to nudge the container where the rest are. 

The rest of the sheep have lost interest in them by now--some of them graze from the feeder in the pen while others lay down in a big group. The one that approached them stays close though and Akaashi sits on the ground, pulling his phone from a pocket and tapping on it until the sounds of soft Christmas music starts playing. 

“This is so cool, Kaashi!” Bokuto tries for quiet, but he knows he failed when the sheep in front of him jumps. He flops down beside Akaashi and leans back on his hands. 

Akaashi laughs and pushes the container towards Bokuto. “You can give her one, if you want. You’ll be her favorite.”

So, that’s what Bokuto does. 

He holds his breath while he waits for the fluffy animal to approach him, and when she takes the treat from his hands, he practically bounces on his bottom in excitement. When he reaches his other hand out to pat the floof on her head, she doesn’t even flinch. (She _does_ try to chew on the fabric of his sleeve, though.) 

Eventually, she decides she’s had enough of his attention because she turns around to join the rest of the sheep on the other side of the barn, walking through the open gate of the pen. Bokuto looks to his side, catching Akaashi observing him with a fond look on his face. 

“Kiss me again,” Akaashi demands softly.

Bokuto’s heart skips in his chest. He nods, crawling to his knees to hover in front of Akaashi; taking the other man’s face in his hands, he closes the distance between them, lips locking in a gentle kiss. They stay like that, alternating between quick pecks and longer kisses, heads tilting as Akaashi’s hand threads through Bokuto’s hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

When they part for air, Akaashi is smiling. Bokuto mirroring him, cheeks starting to hurt from the action. He feels so _relieved_.

“Koutarou.” Akaashi brushes Bokuto’s cheek with his thumb. “I really, really, _really_ like you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 Comments make my day and I really do love hearing from yall!
> 
> If you want, you can follow me on twt @_bakuho_ I'm super active over there! Come and scream about stuff with me if you want <3


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